


The proof in impatience

by Moonfreckle (Sunfreckle)



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Making Out, Other, smut without smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-22 20:08:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21307871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunfreckle/pseuds/Moonfreckle
Summary: Claquesous waits, eyes closed, but ears primed. One thing he has learned lately is that Faun, for all their occasional shyness, is much more impatient than him.
Relationships: Claquesous/Fauntleroy (Les Misérables)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	The proof in impatience

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PippinTheRenegade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PippinTheRenegade/gifts), [Feyland](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feyland/gifts).

> Azura plead their case for a dominant Fauntleroy and then Jane wrote [this](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21227798) and then I wrote this~
> 
> I’m gonna categorize this as ‘smut without smut’, wherein the author mourns the fact that English, unlike Dutch, has no verb for “there’s a whole lot of touching and physical intimacy going on, but it shouldn’t be called sex yet”.

Claquesous has never agreed with the frequent laments he hears around him that relationships are difficult. It’s not the relationship that’s difficult – once you’ve gotten unapologetic enough to just say what you want – it’s the shit around it. People, places, real-world implications.

Right now, for instance, whatever he and Faun have isn’t a problem. Not in the slightest. The problem is that Babet, whom they haven’t told cause it’s none of her damn business, decided to keep Faun with her, Biz and Mardi, while ordering the rest of them to make their beds in another room.

He had seen the immediate look of dissatisfaction on Faun’s face, but Claquesous had known of no way to contest the arrangement without letting everyone know instantly what had changed recently. So he had listened with fraying patience to Montparnasse’s bitching about having to sleep on the floor and Gueulemer calling him a little princess, while Fauntleroy sulked silently all the while.

By now the others are asleep, Gueul snoring and Montparnasse wrapped in more duvets than any one person could ever need. Claquesous is lying stretched out in the dark though, on his back with his hands folded under his head with decided sleeplessness. He has barely had any time to talk to Faun after the exploits of the evening. It had been a big job. Tense. And Faun had been absolutely flying about afterwards, still full of the energy set aside for any of the million things that might have gone wrong. They should have been allowed to celebrate a little.

So Claquesous waits, eyes closed, but ears primed. One thing he has learned lately is that Faun, for all their occasional shyness, is _much_ more impatient than him.

A soft noise, barely worthy of being called a creak, stirs in the direction of the door.

Claquesous opens his eyes.

Fauntleroy is barely more than a shadow, sneaking into the room on bare feet. Claquesous hardly hears their footsteps, and neither does he hear so much as a hitch in his friends’ deep, sleeping breaths. Without a word, but with a pleased, silent smile around his lips, he lifts up his covers.

Faun slips under them with a whispered breath of triumph and immediately presses against him, causing him to grin. Claquesous tucks the duvet around them both and Fauntleroy shifts against him, nudging their mouth closer to his ear. But instead of the indignant whispers about their boarding-school type separation he expects, they simply bury their face in his neck and keep moving their body against his with a stubborn determination to get as close as humanly possible. Claquesous lets them, confident that once they are warm and comfortable, they will simmer down and settle down to sleep.

He’s wrong.

Instead of resting their head against his shoulder, Faun nuzzles against the curve of his neck with increasing deliberateness. There is something possessive about their movements that is startlingly new. The arm that they aren’t lying on rests heavily across his chest and it’s nearly a hug, but not quite. Not with those slight, teasing little movements of their lips every time they find a softer spot to press against.

Claquesous breathes out a soft noise of amusement when their mouth lingers on his pulse and Faun presses closer in response, pushing their whole body upwards in the process. He smirks lazily in the dark, already warming under the influence of their affections.

“If it’s a kiss you want, you can have one.

His voice is almost too low to be intelligible, but half-heard words are more than enough for Fauntleroy. They immediately push themself up on one arm, their other hand finding the side of his face in the dark as he turns his head towards them. They’re moving slowly, silently, and Claquesous can feel their curls brush against is cheek and forehead as they tumble forward before he feels their lips touching his.

They lean on his chest as they kiss him and he smiles against their lips. As soon as they kiss him, they are soft and gentle again. Silence washes over him in the same way it always does when Fauntleroy fills his mind, not leaving any room for anything else. And the silence lasts. Faun has barely lifted up their head, leaving just enough space between their lips for a breath, or they already dip their head down again. Their lips press against his more firmly now, their fingers reaching towards the back of his neck. Claquesous tilts his head back instinctively and at the slightest parting of his lips, Faun’s do too.

There is something about the way Fauntleroy deepens their kisses that is different from any other person he has ever kissed. He’s never able to put it into words, but it has an overwhelming quality to it that always takes him by surprise. It’s as if Faun is capable of pouring their entire self into a kiss, pure and unpretending, and gaining access to the entirety of _him_ in the process.

They kiss him softly, sweetly, and Claquesous loses himself in the taste of them until all his thoughts have scattered into silence and he is too drawn in to even feel surprised when they begin to shift their weight to be on top of him. Their lips almost leaves his when come up to straddle his hips and he involuntarily lifts his head up of his pillow in search of more. But suddenly Faun’s hand slides into his hair and pulls him back down, fully breaking out of the kiss for a silent moment while their eyes meet in the dark.

Claquesous opens his mouth in a wordless question and he can just make out their smile before they kiss him again. But now, now they shift and move with the rhythm of their kiss, steadily growing less soft and more rhythmic. It breaks the drowsy spell of their kiss, the sudden heat that pulses through him as they start to roll their hips, but not their hold over him. He’s tangled up with them, fingers twisted into his hair and legs straddling his own, and they leave him no room to think apart from wishing for more.

They are quiet, so quiet, the two of them. Nothing but rustling cotton and muffled breathing.

The thin fabric of Faun’s shirt is riding up as they move, leaving their skin bare against his, and Claquesous shudders. For a moment he feels a their teeth as they grin into the kiss and a beat later they are nipping at his bottom lip. Their hips roll against his and Claquesous allows himself a single, eager noise as they pull out of the kiss to trail their lips down his neck. They press harder in response, their warm breath wet against his skin. All of his body is singing by now, aching for more, and in an impulse Claquesous reaches out to grab Faun’s hips.

Gone is the hand in his hair, gone are the lips on his neck. Fauntleroy’s slender hands wrap around his wrists with firm denial and with a sudden, silent struggle they pin his arms on either side of his head, pushing down with all their weight as they suddenly hover above him, staring down.

Claquesous stares back, his heart pounding and his natural urge to fight back and take over abruptly silenced. The glint in Fauntleroy’s eyes is _just_ visible in the dark and the grip on his wrists does not relent. It’s doing something odd to the tension rolling down his spine and Claquesous has to make a genuine effort to keep still. Their legs are pressing firmly against his on either side, but they have stopped moving against him. Involuntarily he shifts beneath them and Faun slants their head ever so slightly. He stops moving.

Something about Faun is so different to what he’s used to. They are _still_ staring down at him.

Slowly, Sous spreads his hands in silent surrender.

Faun’s smile is only visible because of the flash of their teeth. Their grip doesn’t loosen, but they lower themself down again, agonisingly slow, as if they’re savouring the moment.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t even try, and then their lips are on his again.

This time their kiss is different. No louder than before, but wilder. Their hands slip from his wrist and their fingers entwine with his, pushing his arms up further, until they’re fixed almost above his head in a way that makes him arch his back under their weight. Faun’s mouth leaves his and before he suddenly feels their lips on his neck again, he hears a single intoxicatingly ragged breath escape them. And then his hands are released and Faun’s weight shifts, their mouth fastening over his pulse while one of their knees slides between his legs.

The involuntary bucking of his hips comes with a noise he doesn’t manage to swallow and Fauntleroy laughs. They laugh ever so softly in the quiet dark and their left hand raises teasingly to his face, placing a finger across his lips.

Claquesous tips his head sideways to the feeling of their teeth on his skin and kisses their hand, making the soft nips to his neck falter. They keep moving, their knee sliding higher and their fingertips suddenly pressed eagerly to his lips. He closes his eyes, blindly kissing the soft pads of their fingers while they grind against him. Faun pushes his legs further apart, rolling their hips against his until he can hear his own heartbeat mix with their hurried breathing as it rushes in his ear. He laps at their fingers with his tongue, his hands still above his head where Fauntleroy pressed them and his whole body transfixed by them as one of their hands finds its way into his hair again while they force his hips down with their own.

Their lips brush his ear, their breath hurried and eager, and in the swimming, dizzying dark Claquesous hears their voice.

“Mine—”

The heat of it almost burns on his skin.

Fingers dig into the small of his back and fist into his hair.

“_Mine_.”

He can’t speak with his breath locking in his chest, with his entire body adrift and directionless save for where Faun leads him, but they’re demanding an answer.

“_Yes_,” he gasps.

Their embrace softens so immediately that Claquesous sighs, tipping his head forward to nudge it against theirs. Faun presses their forehead to his, both of them breathing deeply. They make a soft, muffled sound, the tension draining for their body until there is nothing left of their heated movements but a sweet, gentle rocking, as if they realise he needs more time than they do to be led back down after getting so worked up.

As soon as their energy gives way like that, though, he is able to focus again. And it’s easy to calm his body down again, he just has to focus on Faun instead of on himself. He wraps his arms around them, still soundless, save for the shifting of the covers, and cradles them against his chest. He feels rather than hears Faun’s contented sigh and he smiles in the dark.

When his heartbeat has evened out again and he can feel the rhythm of Faun’s pressed to his own, he gently rolls onto his side, Faun still securely in his arms.

Fauntleroy shifts with him, their movements slow and drowsy. They murmur a soft, smiling noise when he presses a kiss to their forehead, returning it with one to his chest before drowsily turning around in his arms and nestling their back against him.

Claquesous blows out an approving breath and hugs them a little closer. He feels warmed through and full up with affection. Some of the heated feelings are still simmering in his body, but his mind is slow and sated, too content to have Faun in his arms – exhausting on their own affection – to want anything else.

The last lucid though he is aware of before he drifts off to sleep, is that if any of the others wake up before he does, there will be a whole lot of ruckus in the morning.

But honestly, in this moment, with Fauntleroy’s body fitting perfectly against his, it’s rather hard to care.

**Author's Note:**

> (No one catches them in the morning, but as soon as they're alone Montparnasse is going to inform Claquesous that if he thought he wouldn't notice any of that he's /sorely/ mistaken.)


End file.
